Instinct
by J.A.Kishu
Summary: John Reese needs a personal nurse to take care of him. His name is Harold.


**Instinct**

"Mr. Reese do I have to repeat myself go back to your bed and rest." The older man didn't turn around as he comments his asset back where he came from. He hears the soft noise of socks on the floor of Reese flat as he turns around. Heavy step from someone far beyond exhaustion.

Reason for Finch's state as personal nurse was that the younger man was unable to follow simple instructions regarding his health. While their last number Reese had to finish off a few threats in a waste water tunnel and a few of his scratches got infected. Not that this minor inconvenient would stop the ex CIA agent to be at the library in time with a high fever and wobbly in his feet. Finch had to send him home and let the new number handled by Carter and Fusco.

That didn't stop Reese from appearing at a crime scene. Finch had to pick him up and half carrying him back to his apartment. Reese had still carried most of his weight himself, alone for the reason not to hurt Finch.

Recognizing a lost case Finch had brought him to bed and got medicine and the ingredient for a sup at a close marked. Returning to the apartment he had found Reese at the front door ready to leave. It only took a look from Finch to get the man back. They play this game since a few hours. Every time the sick man wakes he thinks he has to go to work on a number as if he forgets that he is sick and Finch is minding him, most likely coursed by the fever.

It was time for the next dosage of medicine and Finch was not happy about it for two reasons. First his patient was finally sleeping and second John Reese hates to take medicine, claiming that he needs to stay alert.

Finch walks closer to the bed. "Mr. Reese you have to take your medication again." There was no reaction and Finch reaches out to touch Reese at his arm to shake him awake enough. Big mistake, the reaction to the touch was imminently. Reese jumps out of the bed, lays his hand around Finch's neck, the glass of water the older man had brought over shattered on the floor and he was pressed against the wall. No amounts of struggling would Finch get out of this. To his horror was Reese walking right through the shattered glass and leaves blood behind.

There was no recognizing in Reese eyes only pure survival instinct. The grip gets tighter and Finch starts to fear this outcome. He always feels safe with the younger man around, even now. He just need to get the man out of his illusion. "John, you are safe, no one will hurt you. Please return back to me from wherever dark place you currently in." The hand stays on his neck but the grip stops getting tighter. "John it's me, Harold. You are at you apartment. You have a high fever and I want to give you something against it. So we can work on the numbers again." The fever shining eyes get more focused but still no recognizing and breathing is getting harder not to mention the growing pain in his neck and shoulder from the brutal smash against the wall. "John please." Finally John´s eyes open wide in shock. He let go of Harold and slowly steps back. Harold massages his neck but tries not to show any pain. He doesn't want to spook the man in front of him who was closely to a full blown panic attack.

"John look at me please." But his friends eyes where fixed on his hands. "Mr. Reese look at me." The order does the trick. Scared eyes look and meet the only other breathing creature in the room. "John I'm fine look, nothing happened. I'm sorry for surprising you it was my fault. Please sit down." John shakes his head the fear of what could have happen was clearly written in his face.

* * *

John just wants to run, away from this apartment, away from Harold, he had nearly killed and he wants to run away from the monster he was.

Harold's body language told him he had hurt him. And that was something he promised not to do. He wants to protect his friend and not hurt him.

A hand on his arm stopped him before he can run. "Stay, we need to have a look at your feet and you need to take your medicine before you lay down again." His feet? John looks down and sees bloody prints on the floor. Finch pulls him back to bed and he let himself be manhandled. Harold was gentle and careful not to startle him. He explains every step and every movement he does.

John's mind was clouded and heavy; Harold's voice lulled him into a state of half sleep and the will to get away from his only friend died and disappears. He accepted the fresh glass of water and takes the pills Harold pushed out of the blister. The hand on his shoulder suggested lying down and he has no complain about it. John was safe with Harold.

* * *

Finch watches a man lose his battle with sleep. He was glad that the medicine finally kicked in. The wounds on John's feet didn't require stitches, a good thing. He picks up the shattered glass pieces from the floor and dries the floor with a towel. After that he relaxes a bit in a chair he had placed next to the bed with a book and one eye on his resting patient.


End file.
